


Discord Prompts Collection

by KanraChrome



Category: Moonlight Lovers (Visual Novel)
Genre: Birds, Caretaking, Domestic Fluff, Eggs, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, One Word Prompts, Pumpkins, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraChrome/pseuds/KanraChrome
Summary: A collection of prompts given by some players on the Discord "The Hive" ! Will be updated randomly, also English is not my mother tongue ;;
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Pumpkin (Vladimir)

It wasn’t a secret, Vladimir’s prefered place was the garden. On cloudy nights he’d go there with a hand lantern he kept from a long time ago, taking care of plants, weeding the garden and cursing under his breath because the others failed at such a simple task. He didn’t ask a lot from them or so he thought, taking care of the garden was the least they could do. 

There were a few places where they weren’t allowed though. His cyclamens only knew him and his gentle bare hands to take care of them, but another part of the garden was off limits. The others didn’t really ask why, whether they didn’t care or knew they’d better not try their chance. His cane was by his sides even when he was alone and relaxed after all. 

Here, in the secret part of his garden which extended to the forest, was a plowed field with sandy earth for his special seeds. He acquired them himself a long time ago and wouldn’t think they’d bloom and thrive, but what did he have to lose ? Ivan was with them for a few months already and everything seemed to remind him how much he’d have to abandon his life as a whole. Vladimir knew how much he hurt. 

He had been like him once. Barely a man, left to flee with no money nor name nor reputation. Maybe it was why he felt such a connection to their younger roommate. Or maybe it was because he knew how the others could be harsh in saying to him how much he needed to let go without giving him means to do so. Vladimir shook his head with a sigh, finishing his gardening session for the night. The sky would be clear for many days, but he hoped it would grow. 

He couldn’t watch over them during Summer, taking back Ivan’s cape to sometimes wander in his hidden garden, taking care of them. These seeds were blooming according to plan, but they also needed a lot of care he couldn’t really provide. A lot had wilted, but at least a few others were growing strong. Looking at them while watering the earth, he pondered about his life. In the end, he had lost many people, but the ones with him would never leave his sides. A soft smile was on his lips that night when he came back to the manor. 

September was rolling by and his plants looked promising. He could finally go back to his garden almost every night thanks to the covered sky of northern France, reminding him of his good time in England. Only seven ended up in various sizes and shapes, but he was satisfied. It was the first time for him to grow this kind of thing, and it was for someone dear to him even though half of the manor would disagree that he possessed a heart. He clicked his tongue, annoyed at the thought, and looked again at the bumpy vegetables growing peacefully. If only the others could be as quite. 

October arrived before he truly realised it, with its longer days, the deeper forest aroma and bloody airheads invading his property. Of course with Halloween at the end of the month, a lot of youngsters were lost in the forest or searched for the old forgotten manor where supposedly ghosts live. The manor was haunted for sure, Vlad was the only one to know about it, even though Aaron could feel something in the cellar. None of them really celebrated Halloween except Ivan who was really excited about it. This year, maybe Vladimir could be a bit more lenient with everyone. At least he won’t have Ethan and Beliath on his plate. 

To say that Aaron was surprised at the big pumpkins to carry to the manor was an understatement. To say that Raphaël’s eyebrows shooting up and looking at him in in surprise wasn’t an endearing sight was also an understatement. To say that Ivan was squealing in delight, his first smile since months was yet another one. For once Vladimir let the rest of them have their fun carving the orange sturdy vegetables, slightly intrigued by their antics and how squashy the things could be. 

He had to thank Ivan’s new strength for that, but at least he was learning how to control himself in a pleasing way, encouraged by his two mentors. After some squabbles and Raphael’s rapier safely hidden to not be used, they seemed to be done. The smiles were crooked and clumsily carved, and each of them looked a lot like the Manor’s inhabitants, be it in size or details. Beliath frilly leaves and Ethan’s smirk were easy to guess, both vegetables close to one another. 

Vladimir laughed in front of the one looking like himself, joined by his old friend touching every bit of the pumpkin’s face and putting his own blindfold on it to make it more Raphael-looking. The owner of the manor deposited his in front of the biggest burly one, Raphael’s to its over side and Ivan’s small and round pumpkin was neatly arranged on top of it, the gap in size and smoothness between all of them an endearing sight. They really were that different in terms of looks and personalities, but they were made of the same material in the end. Maybe he should remember that, the next time one of them forgot to perfectly weed the garden.


	2. Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil has always lived there, alone. Except when an old friend trusts him with comrades sometimes.

Neil had lived in the manor for as long as he remembered. Only his collection of books could attest of the time slipping by but without being able to touch him, to change him. He had stopped aging so many years ago, his lustrous black hair with strands of silver neatly combed in a loose braid as he stretched his gloves, breathed the moist air of this autumn solstice and took his cane. The walk to the village was a breeze, but he wanted to enjoy the last rays of sunlight between the vivid soon-to-be-falling leaves. 

Nobody seemed to notice the middle-aged dandy wearing all black from hat to his polished shoes strolling the streets and taking his sweet time to notice what had changed since the last time he went. Another bookstore to replace the old souvenir shop. A few unknown faces and new kids playing with a round ball he never saw. An old lady he knew once as a toddler smiling at him while feeding the birds. He smiled back and continued his short journey.

This house was sure to be odd compared to the pittoresque northern France village. It looked like it teleported from the mountains in the east with its wooden walls and planks fixated neatly at the top, a warm light already filtering through fluttering curtains. He was glad she was home, for he didn’t feel like circling the house to get what he heard of. Always take pride in your manners, his father often said. So he knocked with his cane on the wooden door. 

She was just as he had remembered her. Malicious green eyes hidden behind thick glasses and a smile making her lips curl almost like a cat mouth. Neil had always known her in a sense, and her mother, and her grandfather, … they inhabited the village for five generations and were driven by only one passion : birds. Everywhere in the cozy house were preserved feathers, books of observations, hand-built nests and birdhouses. He loved coming here, for the house had a soul just like the manor. 

It was a really small nest with two little eggs in it, kept warm by wool and cotton added to the hay. He cupped his hands to take it, his cane under his arm while his somehow friend chirped about how she had found them and had sent him a letter because her grandfather always said he could do wonders with little ones like these. Neil laughed, thanking her for the praise. Indeed, he had taken an interest in watching after lost chicks and forgotten eggs in his many centuries of walking the Earth. To say that he was both sad and delighted would be downplaying how he felt to finally have eggs to take care of during the harsh season. 

The walk back to the manor took a longer time than expected, cautiously holding the nest and what he’ll need to take care of it. The leaves made the trail slippery, and he was only halfway. Nothing could harm him, but Neil still had to take care of the two fragile lives still in his cupped hands. Around him, owls were talking and moving from tree to tree, and he could even hear some bats some meters ahead. He’ll enjoy another walk to enjoy it, but not tonight. 

Days came and went, a well-oiled cycle. Getting up, stretching, opening the curtains and the windows to let fresh air in, maybe have a glass of wine if he felt like it and watching after the eggs with an open book and some side glances when he heard something. Their heartbeats were steady, and they weren’t as agitated as last week. They also grew in their shells, he could hear the flutter sometimes. The Ancient would never admit it but sometimes he felt lonely in this big house by himself in the middle of nowhere, having some little ones next to him helped him a great deal. 

Neil had fallen asleep in the parlor again, hair dangling from the sofa to the carpet and his book resting on his chest. Judging from the light filtering through the curtains, he had woken up an hour or so before dusk. Another tapping noise made him jolt upside, his hazy golden eyes fixated on one of the egg. A tiny part of the eggshell had fallen, followed by another one. Neil caught a quick sight of a small beak doing its best to crack the shell while the other egg rolled on the side. 

He cheered for them in a low whisper, cupping the nest again to have it resting in his trembling hands, the book long forgotten and lying askew on the sofa. Both of them gave their best to hatch, and he did help them a little by removing some eggshells that seemed too hard to send away. One of them tumbled out of its egg and let out a kind of hissy croak, the other was still hatching before joining its sibling. Despite all his centuries taking care of birds from egg to first flight, he was still amazed at the energy they could possess to bring themselves to the world. In his contemplation, Neil almost forgot to check on them. Age did make him a bit forgetful, sometimes.

They were both healthy and fighting to be fed, even after a few weeks in his company. A clumsy joyful company indeed, one of them even escaped the nest to explore his room. while he was asleep. Both were his favorite, and he fed them equally, talking to them as if they were real children to make them behave. As usual, they didn’t listen, causing him to fondly sigh. But they were growing big and strong, and he had to train them to live in the wild. Neil already lived with pets before, but the pain tearing at his heart everytime one of them departed made him resign. At least he could catch a glimpse of them without being too attached. 

A few more weeks, and the both of them were flying in the manor, trying to get under his hand when he was resting his arm on the armchair of the sofa. How cuddly they had become, but unfortunately he had to let them go soon. The sky was clear tonight, the dying pink rays of the sun lighting the way for him. Both birds were tucked under in the hood of his travelling cape and happily chirping, proud to be on their first adventure. 

A knock with his cane, a happy wave from her to say hi, and soon his two little birds were flying to rest on her arm as she was talking to them to make them behave. They listened to her, as if hypnotized, and he stifled a laugh. This family sure was gifted, and judging by the babbling coming from the 4 years old grand-son and the birds answer, he will have someone to talk to even in half a century. With a polite nod, he headed back to the village, awaiting the next letter he’ll receive in three days or years.


End file.
